The Mage and the Templar
by Redlocks06
Summary: The adventures of young Solona and Cullen as they get to know life in the Circle Tower, the politics of Thedas and each other. Follows their story as they get to know each other as young children in the Circle Tower of Ferelden, until they grow up and need to face far more dangerous destinies.
1. Chapter 1: The Arrival

**Chapter 1: Arrival**

Solona Amell gawked at her surroundings, amazed and a little frightened. Heavy black doors closed behind her with finality as she entered the Circle Tower of Ferelden, Kinloch Hold. Ten-year-old Solona padded across the marble foyer, nudged forward by a firm Templar hand that steered her towards an elderly man in long, grey-green robes.

"Welcome child, to your new home. I hope you had a good journey and that you will be very happy with us. My name is Irving. I am the First Enchanter of the Circle. Think of the tower mages as your new family, and please child, if you have any needs, speak them freely."

Solona was unsure how to respond, overwhelmed by all the new things surrounding her. She opted for a nod and the grey bearded man smiled at her kindly, eyes twinkling. Deciding she liked him, Solona endeavored to be a bit braver.

"Thank you," she managed in a small voice. "My name is . . . Solona."

"Politeness is a golden quality Solona. Well done. I will have someone take you to your new room, so you can meet your fellow apprentices." He gestured towards an arched door at the far end of the room and another elderly person in long robes came forward, this one in blue and yellow, female, with long grey hair hanging to her waist.

She took Solona's hand and escorted her patiently through the tower. Walking through the hallways, Solona saw books, so many books. Solona loved books. Her previous life made no time for education or reading. Instead, she listened to stories from travelers or elders. Eager to please their awestruck little spectator, they told her many tales and her imagination ran wild.

For the rest of the trip, she concocted endless adventures to fit into all the books she saw. Abruptly, all thoughts of dragons and sword fights dissipated as heavenly aromas from the kitchen wafted towards her. Grumbling noises erupted from her tummy and her escort wisely diverted them into the kitchens.

"Have anything to feed the skinny thing, Lora?" The elderly lady asked an elf woman in brown robes and a cream apron.

"Certainly, Enchanter Filda. Just finished a batch of pot pies for the Templar boys. They should be comin' round to fetch 'em just now. Pipin' hot, be careful lass." Lora handed a steaming pie to Solona.

Solona tried not to gulp it all down immediately. The road had been long and the Templars who had brought her here had shared their meals, one had even offered her snacks of dried fruits and nuts, but growing girls need to eat.

"Thank you, miss." Solona took the pie from the smiling elf-cook.

"Sweet isn't she, Lora?"

"Indeed, I wish more folks had her manners. I do hope she'll make friends. Those apprentices can be mighty unruly sometimes. Lil' Anders is such a handful sometimes. I had to chase him out three times this week, stealin' handfuls of flour. Couldn't bring myself to tell Greagoir."

Listening to all of this with great fascination, she wondered if Anders would want to go on adventures with her. Between mouthfuls of gravy and meat chunks, she also made a mental note to avoid this Greagoir person.

"Oh, hello Cullen. They send you down again, hay?" The elf turned to the kitchen door where a young, strawberry-blond boy of about 14 stood, wearing a maroon tunic, adorned with the flaming sword of Andraste. Solona had seen the tunic worn by chantry members. An in. . . ini . . . ciate. . . or something.

Seeing someone closer to her own age and filled with pride from recent compliments, she decided to be friendly with this boy too. "Hello, Cullen."

Young Cullen's eyes nearly popped out of his head in surprise, but he managed to regain his manners and stammer a hello in turn. Just short of grabbing the tray of pies from Lora's hands, he darted out the kitchen.

Lora and Enchanter Filda burst out laughing. Solona was confused and a little upset.

"Fret not child," Lora giggled, "them Templar boys are terribly shy."

"Indeed child, don't let Cullen's behavior disturb you. He's not very sociable and spooks easily. You'll meet plenty of other children who are more at ease."

Solona nodded. Hoping that maybe in the future she'd be able to make up for startling Cullen.

"Come, Solona. It's getting close to afternoon and we should get you settled before everyone turns in."

Sleeping on a cloud, in a bed more comfortable than she'd ever experienced, warm after a steamy bath and full to bursting with delicious pot pie, Solona dreamed of fighting dragons with Cullen, hoping in her heart to make many friends, very soon.


	2. Chapter 2: A Friend

**Chapter 2: A Friend**

Solona dozed quietly into the late morning. Jowan noted how still she was when she slept. He was eager for her advice however, and could not keep himself from waking her.

"Mmm?" Solona yawned, stretching and raising her eyebrow at her friend.

"Jowan, you always interrupt the best dreams," she complained at him.

"It's important. You'll like it too. Come on, get up."

Bounding with eagerness, Jowan left the room, calling over his shoulder, "Meet me at the kitchen in an hour."

Seriously considering just sleeping in more, Solona reluctantly got out of bed and made herself ready. She combed her long spiraling hair, dressed in her favorite blue silk robe and matching slippers and freshened her face at the wash basin. Sleepy, she looked sleepy, but her appearance would do for whatever Jowan wanted to show her.

She met him, as promised, an hour later. Her friend of 6 years, was waiting for her eagerly in the doorway of the kitchen. Jowan was strange. Friendly and open one moment, then somber and gloomy the next. Getting her into trouble often, Solona was not always sure what made her decide to have Jowan as her friend. Supposing that it was too late now to do anything about the situation, she went along.

He led her to the back of the kitchen where Lora kept all her spices and pointed to an oddly shaped canister with a red label.

 _Dragon Spice_

Solona raised an eyebrow, already guessing where this was going.

"We are not."

"Oh come on, it'll be fun. Messing with Templars is always fun."

Jowan did not share her tolerance of Templars and was often chatting away about the visionary concepts of Circle Tower life that Anders liked to lecture on. When Anders was in the tower and not being chased by Templars across Thedas after his most recent escape attempt.

"Jowan. No." Solona's attempts at being firm was quickly turning her friend into a sour mood.

"You never want to have fun. You love Templars don't you? You choose them over us all the time. You don't want to be a mage. You just want us to be trapped in this prison, forever!"

"Hush Jowan, you're making a scene."

Imploring her friend did not quieten him and a few moments later she was arm in arm with him, on their way to sneak into the Templar's wash room. All this to keep her friend happy.

She supposed the odd distraction of Jowan's was a bit of an adventure, though she'd prefer clean fun over this. Perhaps she was drab. Maybe Jowan's idea of lacing the Templar recruit's socks with Dragon Spice would be funny.

At any rate it was always amusing to see them keep their pose in the face of discomfort and the two of them may very well be helping them to practice being serious and devout. Solona chuckled and decided she would go along. It was one of the more harmless pranks Jowan wanted to pull. It would keep him from more serious offences at any rate, and help him release tension. Circle Life could be very demoralizing without proper distraction.

Jowan and Solona made their way into the Templar's wash rooms. Locationally they were near the stairway and before the quarters themselves, making it an easy target for getting in and out.

Jowan took the Dragon Spice from inside his robe and sprinkled a rather generous amount onto the socks hanging to dry. Dragon Spice did not discolor, unlike red pepper powder and packed twice the punch. Not to mention that sweaty feet would set off a chain reaction. If a Templar scratched his feet, the friction would multiply the burning effect of the Dragon Spice.

Solona chuckled at the thought of Templars doing the 'Itchy Dance'.

Distracted by her imaginings, Solona was not keeping proper watch.

"And what, pray tell, are you seasoning my recruit's socks for, Apprentice Jowan?" the booming voice of Greagoir carried across the entire floor.

Jowan froze and Solona's heart stopped. They were in deep trouble.

That evening a very shamed faced duo of students were sent to the library for their punishment. This included, but was not limited to, kitchen duty for a week, writing out a thousand lines and no dinner tonight. The yelling that Greagoir had given them had also been such that the entire tower knew of their trespass.

As far as punishments went, it was strict but not sever. Greagoir had to keep the peace in the tower and it was a full-time job.

The two sullen faced mages made their way to the library late into the evening. Most of the Circle residents were eating or going to bed. Jowan and Solona would have a long night ahead of them.


	3. Chapter 3: Candle's Warmth

**Chapter 3: Candle's Warmth**

Greagoir made sure the two misbehaved mage apprentices were settled into their lines before retiring for the night. He left a templar recruit to watch them and make sure they were being properly punished.

"Magic exists to serve man and never to rule over him."

Greagoir sighed, somehow sensing that the repetition of these well-known words was losing its impact.

"It means, apprentices, that you have a gift, a dangerous one. To master it requires discipline. Since the impact of these words have not quite been made on you, I suggest you contemplate their meaning while you write them out one thousand times."

Greagoir turned to the recruit in the corner, obscured by the shadows from the library bookcases, "Make sure they write them neatly Cullen."

Solona blinked. Cullen. She had seen him on occasion, they were trapped together as charge and keeper after all. Her latest dreaming had painted their developing friendship in a different light however.

Solona bowed her head to hide her blush, looking over at Jowan to find he was red for a different reason. Jowan did not share her understanding or acceptance of the Templars. To him they were hated prison guards. His views had been shaped by Anders who often complained and sowed discord. Solona had come to the conclusion long ago that they were equally trapped and kept on an equally short leash. Not all shared this viewpoint and Jowan was in almost hostile opposition.

Cullen brought them both their vellums and inkwells. The candles were all burning high, prepared for the long night that lay ahead.

The slow trek of the moon as it pushed the coloured glass patterns across the floor, was a reprieve whenever Solona paused to sooth her aching hand. Jowan was a force of rage next to her, scribbling and scrawling across the page as quickly as he was able. Sighing, Solona let him be, it would be a while until his good humor returned.

At roughly midnight, she estimated, Jowan got up and asked Cullen if his lines were acceptable.

Cullen regarded him and let him go. No doubt disagreeing with the quality of the work, but not wanting to push the angry mage any more. Jowan stomped off to the sleeping quarters leaving her an undivided focus point for the young Templar knight.

Cullen had been knighted recently, he had been very happy that day and had lost his stammer around her for a few moments as he told her the good news. They were friends. Not quite as obvious about it as Jowan, but Templars and Mages did not make friends without there being whispers or disapproving looks given. They kept it brief and polite, but there was deep respect for the other's acceptance. Cullen did not hate mages and Solona did not despise Templars.

Concentrating and trying to ignore Cullen's presence in the room, she continued with her lines. A small amount of guilt was working its way into her thoughts. Maybe Cullen would be unhappy with her for going along with Jowan and his silly prank. She hoped it would not tarnish his opinion of her.

Quietly etching out the famous lines of Andraste, her lids began to droop and she felt the heavy hand of tiredness on her. Determined to let no more slips in discipline occur, she finished her lines, all of them neat and took her efforts to be evaluated by Cullen.

He nodded. She was disappointed, hoping at least he would say something.

Resolute, perhaps a bit stubborn from sleepiness, she decided if he would not speak then she would, "I'm sorry, Cullen."

"It's alright. I don't think it was your idea."

Smiling hopefully at him she was pleased when he gave her a smile back. Her heart was lifted and she felt happy. Happy and tired and comfortable.

Dressed in his iconic maroon tunic, the fabric thick and velvety and soft. Solona imagined a whole bed made of heavy warm blankets, just like it, to sink away in and rest her head on.

"Um... Sol... ona."

"Mmm?"

Reality was creeping back. Her mind became aware that in the fog of her fantasy she somehow ended up with her head on Cullen's shoulder.

Blushing profusely, she stammered, "What am I... I am so sorry. Sorry."

Like so many years ago, she wanted to run from Cullen, as he did the first time she spoke to him. Embarrassed, she stepped back and hung her head, half asleep when she closed her eyes.

"I... think you should go to sleep, Solona. Your lines are more than fine."

Woozy, she turned to step but felt the ground become porridge.

Strong arms steadied her, she felt the mists of dreaming and fantasy take over. Cullen steadied her all the way to the apprentice quarters, escorting her down the, thankfully empty, dark passageways from the library to her chambers.

Stopping at the door he waited for her to let go of his arm. She found that she didn't want to. Delirious from sleep deprivation and filled with the warm comfort of his steadiness and chivalry, she did not want to let him go.

She looked at him through the darkness, overcome with sadness. This was their life. This is how near she would get to being close to him, in this pathetic state, barred from normal social interaction with a boy she liked to spend time with. A friend she couldn't get to know but was forced to be around constantly. Madness. No wonder discipline and strictness were so meticulously checked up on. Like Jowan she wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all, but for an entirely different reason.

Stubborn, resolute and with great and fierce determination to do something about the choking state of things Solona turned to Cullen, stood on tip toe and kissed him.

Brief but intense, his lips like passing her hand through an open flame. The heat fleeting, she wasn't even entirely sure if she had actually done it. Her dreams so mixed with reality, but she would hold onto the moment forever, real or imaginary.

"Goodnight Cullen," she whispered as he stood in shocked silence, "Thank you."


End file.
